Better Than Chocolat
by Bunny Wilde
Summary: Josephine Muscat had forgotten what happiness was. That all changed at the first sight of those red shoes. Josephine/Vianne, Chocolat movie-centric.
1. Chapter 1

Josephine Muscat had forgotten was happiness was. She'd resigned herself to an eternity of damnation, penitence for a sin she could not remember committing. She'd scrubbed his house, pleasured his body, walked in his shadow, and lived his twisted reality long enough that she'd forgotten there was anything else. Her lips had forgotten what it was to smile, the muscles atrophied from disuse. And just as her lips had forgotten how to smile, her soul had forgotten how to laugh.

That had changed at the first sight of those red shoes.

The warmth of them had been a small one, at first. She hadn't realised how nourishing true colour was for your soul. And though it didn't quite laugh at the shoes, her withered, tired soul did raise it's head for the first time in what may have been eons. It raised it's head, and felt the soft, soft warmth of hope. So Josephine had to go to the chocolaterie, and, though it took her returning more than once, from the moment she'd seen into the windows, she knew she had to go inside.

She'd nearly had a heart attack when she saw Vianne in the back room of the pub. It was partially the fear of discovery, that Vianne had come to confront her about the stolen chocolate. But it was more than that, as well. It was the fear, the terror, that Serge would come back and… and what? She didn't even know anymore, she couldn't even think of it. Her mind wouldn't let her. But even as Vianne left, the rose crème melting in her mouth gave her the same warming sensation as the sight of Vianne's red shoes.

* * *

**A/N: **This was originally intended to be the beginning of a oneshot, but I think I'm going to try to expand it, so this just became the intro of what's probably going to turn into a fic spanning the length of the film.  
P.S. If anyone reads this and happens to ship these two, drop me a review or a pm even just to let me know that I'm not the only one. =D


	2. Chapter 2

When Josephine saw Vianne Rocher storming across the square, she almost lost her nerve. The woman was angry. She could feel the anger vibrating through her own bones. But as she came around Josephine to unlock the doors, something changed in Mademoiselle Rocher, and it made her hold her ground; she had grown unused to seeing a person hold back their anger. It was both relieving and chilling.

'How long have you been standing here?'

Maybe it helped that she was wearing warm colours. No one in the town wore colours.

The keys rattled in the door, and Josephine's chest felt like it was in a vice.

'I forgot to pay for something, the other day, and I'm sorry...'

'No, no, it was a gift.'

'No,' Josephine croaked out, 'People talk. People lie about me.'

She felt the smile on her lips. That same smile that signified to everyone, 'I'm fine, everything's fine. Isn't this a silly old world we live in, tra la la.' She could hear thoughts forming in Vianne Rocher's head, thoughts about this ridiculous woman and her tatty clothes and her desire to take other people's things.

'I don't steal,' she went on, 'not on purpose... I-'

'Yes, I know.'

Josephine almost flinched when the woman touched her, but Mademoiselle Rocher's smile was warm and comforting. She was smiling in return.

'It's nice to see you.'

And for the first time in a long time, Josephine believed those words. The woman's hand on her face gave her shivers, and she almost missed the invitation to come in for chocolate.

* * *

That night Josephine went over the afternoon with Vianne Rocher in her head, again and again, in detail. She flinched repeatedly over the spilled chocolate. She was in disbelief that she had told the woman anything about her life, let alone about her not loving her husband. And the lying.

In her head, she saw over and over again Mademoiselle Rocher's thumb tracing that monogram. Her heart had skipped beats. Of course Vianne knew she'd stolen it. How could she not know?

Serge doesn't run the world.  
There was a concept. When she had said it, Josephine's blood had pounded in her ears. She had almost felt adrenaline. Serge doesn't run the world. She had hoped... But she knew. She knew he might as well have. Hearing Vianne say it must be true, even if it was only in response to her honest belief of it... it was like falling from a dizzying height right back into shit-filled Lansquenet.

She didn't know what had possessed her to go to the chocolaterie. She didn't know what had dragged those confessions out of her.

She wished she could be certain she wouldn't go back.


	3. Chapter 3

Sundays were quiet days for Vianne, especially in the morning. Was it any surprise, really? Everyone went to church, and then left with the righteousness of the Lord in their hearts; there was too much guilt in the idea of buying chocolate on Sundays.

So when she heard the door open, she popped her head out of the kitchen in surprise. Not only on Sunday, but in the middle of mass, as well?

A very nervous, very mousey Josephine Muscat stood there, with an air that perhaps at any moment someone might burst into the shop and drag her away. Vianne's mouth lifted into a smiles.

'Josephine!' she said, striding over to the counter. 'What a lovely surprise!'

'I shouldn't be here,' mumbled Josephine, hurriedly. 'Serge... he's not...'

'Of course you should be here,' said Vianne, gently, her smile widening. 'I was about to have a cup of chocolate. Join me! We can talk.'

She caught the flicker in Josephine's eye when she mentioned talk, and thought for a moment the woman might flee the shop. But eventually, with much distracted nodding, Josephine sat down. As Vianne prepared the chocolate, she quietly slipped a drop of brandy into it; spiking drinks wasn't usually her way, but she thought Josephine could use it, and it wasn't even enough to change the taste of the drink.

'So, you're not at mass?' Vianne asked, after a few moments of sipping in silence.

'I should be, shouldn't I?' returned Josephine, with one of her breathy, nervous laughs. 'Everyone will notice... but Serge... he's at home, today. He's... sick. He... I thought, since I was alone... I wanted to come here.'

'I'm very glad you did.'

Josephine was slowly, slowly relaxing. It was noticeable in subtle ways. She didn't look as ready to run away, for one. Her hands were ever so slightly steadier. Vianne even caught a hint of genuine pleasure in her smile at her last comment.

'How are things at the cafe?' she asked, taking a sip of her own chocolate. She watched Josephine mirror her action.

'The same as always,' was the reply, light and noncommittal and a automatic. And then... 'How do you do it?'

'How do I do what?'

'You...' Josephine took a moment to gather her words. 'How do you survive? How do you stand it?'

'Stand what, Josephine?' asked Vianne softly, but she was sure she already knew the answer.

'The looks.'

Vianne stared into her chocolate.

'They don't matter,' she said finally, smiling up at the other woman with what she hoped was conviction and assurance. She knew it would take more than those words to convince Josephine of something she'd spent a lifetime believing couldn't be true.

Josephine took a long sip.

'It's very good, Mademoiselle Rocher, thank you.'

'Vianne, please!' Vianne replied, laughing. 'It sounds too odd to be called Mademoiselle by a friend.'

Josephine's smile was genuine, this time, fully genuine. And it was the most beautiful things Vianne had seen in Lansquenet.

'Josephine...' Vianne continued with a smile, feeling the woman relaxing and warming, 'Serge isn't really sick, is he?'

Josephine was taken aback for a moment, but she looked at Vianne's face and seemed to take comfort.

'He's hungover,' she admitted. And then, without warning, she burst into a small fit of giggles.

Vianne laughed with her, although she could hear the desperate edge that had come into Josephine's voice. It was like to different people were both laughing using Josephine's mouth.

'I'm sorry,' Josephine finally got out, when the giggles had subsided. 'That wasn't appropriate. It's just... I've never told anyone when he's been hungover before. Everyone knows, but... you don't miss church because...'

She was looking uncomfortable again, but still had the smile on her face. Vianne nodded her understanding.

'I should go, mass will be over soon...'

Josephine got up and stuck her hands in her pockets.

'How much do I owe you?'

'Oh no,' replied Vianne, shaking her head. 'No, nothing, it's on the house. You already gave me the pleasure of your company.'

'Thank you,' said Josephine, and a blush spread over her cheeks. She made her way to the door, and Vianne followed.

'I'm glad you came, Josephine,' she said, as Josephine stood half in, half out of the door.

'Thank you,' replied Josephine, 'so am I.'

Vianne leaned forward to kiss Josephine's cheeks. She felt the edges of Josephine's lips on her own, hesitant, as if she was unused even to this kind of friendly embrace. But as she pulled back, she could see the warmth in Josephine's parting smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Josephine had never felt so much like the houses of Lansquenet were watching her.

She clutched her case to her desperately, afraid she was losing things as she hurried through the shadowed streets towards the chocolaterie. She has no idea what she was doing. She hadn't stopped to think. She couldn't think. Her brain wouldn't allow her to think. All she could do was keep walking and feel the panic and try to ignore all the darkened windows that seemed to glare down at her in barely contained fury.

Words were ringing in her head. Serge's words. _How dare she not be at church..._

A shutter bumped in the midnight breeze, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Long years of practice were the only thing stopping her from crying out in fright.

_Madame Clairemont came by... see if you were feeling well... HOW COULD YOU EMBARRASS US LIKE THIS JOSEPHINE..._

Josephine flinched.

She didn't know how she reached the door. She didn't know how she managed to knock. It was frantic. She almost fell against the door, she knew that.

She knew that, all of the sudden, Vianne's face was all she could see.

'_I did it_.'


	5. Chapter 5

Vianne's heart was slamming against her ribcage, a mixture of relief and adrenaline flowing freely through her body.

'I did it!'

Vianne pulled Josephine inside, feeling as if her fingertips should be firing sparks. She tried to calm down.

'He was so drunk,' Josephine was doing on, maniacally, laughing. 'He.. h-h-he woke up... he woke up, he saw me packing, but... so he tried to come after me, but I had already tied his feet with his belt and...'

More manic laughter. The woman seemed-

'BOOM!'

Vianne would have jumped out of her pumps if she hadn't been trying to stop Josephine from falling. Clothes spilled out all over the floor. More laughter.

'Right on his face!' laughed Josephine. 'Right there on his big, red face...'

The laughter was accompanied by tears, now, Vianne slowly sat down and began to stroke Josephine's back. Something under her hairline caught Vianne's eye, and she slowly pulled back the curtain of hair to reveal and ugly, livid wound, bruised and practically still bleeding.

'Oh...' she breathed, her throat and chest tightening. She was beginning take possession of herself again. She felt her stomach turning at the sight of Josephine's head.

'It's so stupid, isn't it,' whispered Josephine, as all the panic and crazed laughter melted from her. 'I never blame him. Sometimes I even... forget... what really happened...'

Her eyes came up to meet Vianne's, just for a moment, and in that moment, Vianne felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her eyes pricked wildly, and she struggled to hold back the tears. She pulled Josephine into her, and felt the woman's body go limp before she started to sob into her chest.

* * *

Vianne made up a bed for Anouk on the bench outside the bedroom that night, and one for herself on the floor. She wanted Josephine to be as comfortable as possible. The woman had been through enough that night. She made sure everything was all right, and that there was a glass of water on the bedside table before she turned down the lights and made for the door.

'Wait.'

Josephine's whisper made her stop and turn back to the bed. Josephine was sitting up in the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, and her eyes wide, so wide they were light in the dark.

'I... I'm afraid.'

Vianne paused for a moment, and looked toward where Anouk's makeshift bed was. She knew the girl was sleeping. She softly strode back over to the big bed, and climbed onto it, scooting over to where Josephine was. She could feel her warmth through the blanket.

'I'll stay for a bit,' she said, pushing Josephine's hair out of her face and wrapping her arm around her. They scooted down until they were both lying, Josephine under the covers, and Vianne on top of them.

They didn't say anything, just lay there. But it was a long time before Vianne finally heard the soft, even sound of Josephine's unconscious breathing. She considered getting up and going back to the bed she had made beside Anouk, but she didn't want to wake Josephine, and her arms and legs were already heavy with sleep. She took a long, deep breath through her nose, and released it slowly, letting out tension she had been holding all night. Then, without even truly realising it, she slipped into a sound, heavy sleep.


End file.
